


this isn't a fairytale (but it ends happily anyways)

by haplesshippo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haplesshippo/pseuds/haplesshippo
Summary: In which Yuuri the dragon accidentally kidnaps Viktor the prince, Yuri the mage is enraged and Mila the knight doesn't like snow or sand, and Georgi the bard and Christophe the archer are just along for the ride.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started Yuri!! On Ice and I didn’t expect to like it this much?! Like the last hype train was about Voltron (which I thought wasn’t a very good series when I watched season 1, but that’s a whole other rant you guys probably don’t want to hear), so I was skeptical about YOI but then I watched it and it’s so stupidly cute and like? I don’t know. It’s so cute my teeth are rotting. Like. Oh my god my fucking ovaries are shriveling up and dying because it can’t take this shit. What the fuck.

Yuri Plisetsky is Not Amused, capital letters required, because he’s had it up to _here_ with Viktor’s bullshit.

“What do you mean _he got kidnapped_.”  It isn’t even a question, the way Yuri puts it.  It’s a demand, practically daring the poor page to repeat what he just said.  His anger is legendary in the castle, and anyone who incurs that wrath is a fool.  Too bad most of his friends are fools, especially their idiot prince.

“P-prince Viktor disappeared d-during the skirmish,” the page stammers as he withers under Yuri’s glare. 

“Are you sure he was kidnapped?” Yuri snaps. 

“B-bard Georgi saw him being carried off by a mysterious figure in a robe, but he was engaged in combat with the bandits so h-he couldn’t go after them,” the page whimpers.

“Why did you only come to me _now_ , you incompetent fucking disaster of a page.  You’re going to be demoted so hard you’ll be cleaning and tasting the toilets for the rest of your _miserable life you cretin_ -”

“ _What he means to say_ is thank you for your information.”  A hand smothers Yuri’s rant, and Yuri would have bitten it off if they hadn’t been covered in metal gloves.  “We’ll pursue them immediately.  Please report back to the castle and await further orders.”

The page takes it for the escape opportunity that it is and goes to pack his personal belongings so he can get away from the murderous mage as soon as possible.

“Of all the irresponsible, hair-brained, downright _unbelievable_ things…” Yuri’s snarl is a bit muffled by the glove still covering his mouth, but the knight gets the message.

“You really shouldn’t be so short tempered,” Mila scolds, removing her fingers and wiping them on a nearby tree as if she’s just been slobbered all over by a rabid dog.

“I’ll show you short tempered you old hag-”

“And really, this isn’t the first time he’s been on his own,” Mila continued.  On the other side of the camp, Georgi is staring longingly down at a picture in his hand.  It’s probably his girlfriend again.  Christophe is polishing bow lovingly, and it’d have been obscenely erotic if it wasn’t also vomit-inducing as well.  Nobody seems overly concerned.  And no, Yuri isn’t either.  At all.  “Remember that time when we found him in that bar, with the chicken feathers and the dancer and that fork?”

“So what, we’re just going to let the idiot prince prance off like a lunatic and get himself out of his mess?  _We’re_ always the ones who have to dig him out of the shit he gets himself into,” Yuri complains, and Mila pats the mage consolingly.  Yellow dances between Yuri’s fingers, and he’s so, so tempted to zap the knight with his magic, but he’s tired after the battle.

“We’re going to go after them, but only after we get a good night’s sleep.  Stop acting like such a big guard dog, Yuri, when you’re only one of those small handbag puppies.”

“ _What did you fucking say_.”

Good to know that everyone here has Viktor’s best interests at heart.

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki isn’t exactly sure how he ended up in this situation.  He’d been wandering in the forest, practicing his ice magic and enjoying his human form when he’d accidently wandered straight into a skirmish between bandits that had been terrorizing a nearby village for a while and the Knights Order.  He’d been tempted to turn right around and mosey out of the conflict, but then he’d caught sight of the prince, _Viktor Nikiforov,_ dazzling in the middle of combat.  His ice blue eyes had been narrowed in concentration as he’d fended off three bandits at once, and Yuuri could see exactly _why_ all the other princesses had been vying for his hand for the past two years.  He’d been beautiful, blond hair damp with sweat and dirt smearing his face, brilliant and quick in his blows.  Yuuri was promptly enamoured, and deep in his dragon heart, he sang _mineminemine_.

And then Yuuri had seen a bandit manage to slide his way behind Viktor, dagger poised to slip between the plates of armor Viktor had been wearing, and Yuuri’d reacted on instinct.

Ice flowed from his fingers, and he frosted the ground around him.  His dark brown eyes glowed black, and he froze the bandit’s feet to the ground.  The bandit had fallen over almost comically, and Viktor had knocked the thug out.

“Thank you, stranger,” Viktor had breathed, still charmingly polite and handsome.

Yuuri had been about to reply when he saw that Viktor’s distraction was about to cost him again in the form of a crossbow-wielding bandit, and he’d grabbed Viktor’s hand and yanked the prince towards him.  Viktor’s eyes had widened in alarm before finding himself teleported to a mountain.

It’d been a mistake.  One Yuuri is paying for now.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Yuuri practically cries, kneeling before the prince and begging forgiveness.  He’d have to flee the country now, find refuge back at home with Phichit and Kenjirou.  The prince is going to drive him out at best, execute him at worst, and Yuuri is terrified and horribly embarrassed.

“You don’t have to apologize!” the prince practically _sparkles_ as he reaches out a hand and lifts Yuuri’s head with a nudge of his fingers.  “I’m grateful, really!”

“But you’re practically on the other side of the country!” Yuuri wails.  “I’ll teleport you back right now!”

“Wait, no!” Viktor says quickly, and Yuuri tries to wipe away his tears from behind his glasses.  It’s kind of funny how he has horrible eyesight as a human when, as a dragon, he can count the number of leaves on a branch.  “It’s interesting here!  I’ve never been on this side of the country!  It’s amazing!  I’ve never seen so much snow before!”

Yuuri’s speechless because, really, what do you say in the face of that?  “I should return you before the rest of your party launches a rescue mission,” he says, shame-faced, because if the rest of his party _does_ find his lair, Yuuri will for sure be slain, and then his family will never hear from him again.

“No need!” Viktor chirps, laying his sword on the ground and unbuckling his armor.

“You’ll get cold,” Yuuri pleads as a last ditch attempt to return the prince to his senses.  Little does he know, Viktor’s almost _never_ had good sense anyways. 

Viktor freezes before he reluctantly withdraws his hands and concedes the point, but he brightens right up afterwards.  “We can get more clothes at a nearby village then!”

Viktor proceeds to steamroll over Yuuri, and the dragon can’t tell if he’s terrified, resigned, or desperately hopeful ( _mineminemine_ ).  A dragon’s heart is fickle, but when it loves, it loves deeply, and Yuuri can already feel the stirrings of devotion behind his sternum. 

* * *

 “Are you _sure_ he’s this way,” Christophe grouses, and Yuri throws him the dirtiest look he can manage while knee-deep in snow.  He’s put warming charms on the four of them so they’re not exactly _cold,_ but trudging through snow isn’t exactly the best pastime, and Mila looks this close to stabbing someone when she has to shake out snow from the joints of her armor again.  Georgi is humming a love ballad beneath his breath, and everything just irritates Yuri so, so much.

“I’m _positive_.  Are you doubting my skills?” Yuri snarls back.

Georgi perks up.  “Perhaps a song about my beloved will cheer you up-”

“Shut your mouth _right now_ or I will _sew it shut_.”

“Be nice pipsqueak.”

“ _Excuse me?!_ ”

Christophe doesn’t know what he’s done in his past life to deserve this.

* * *

“So what do you do for fun around here?” Viktor asks as he lounges on the floor.  Yuuri thanks the gods that he’s always been fascinated with human culture, and as a result his cave is astoundingly furnished for human living.  It’d have been awkward to explain a bare cave to the prince.  He also hasn’t shown his hoard to the human.

“Nothing much.  If you’re bored, I can return you to your party,” Yuuri offers, to which Viktor shakes his head.

“No, no, you’re fascinating, and this whole place is amazing!  Let’s go do something.  Hike maybe?”

Yuuri sighs but smiles indulgently.  He feels his heart swelling, devoting itself to the prince, and he’d gladly hole the prince away with the rest of his hoard, because the man is amazing, passionate, and stunning in everything he does.  He puts his whole heart into every action, and Yuuri can’t help but imagine a life with him, secluded away like a precious treasure.

“I-if you want,” Yuuri says, hesitates, but continues, because if there’s one thing Yuuri wants Viktor to remember before he returns, it’s the fact that he’s had fun here.  “If you want, we can go ice skating.”

Viktor tilts his head.  “Ice skating?”

Yuuri blushes but holds out his hand, and Viktor smiles, wide and trusting, before lacing his fingers with Yuuri’s.  Yuuri has a second to revel in the warm, calloused human touch before he teleports them down to a nearby lake.  It’s half frozen, which Yuuri fixes with a touch of his fingers.  It instantly freezes over completely, and Yuuri smiles shyly.  He lifts his feet to create ice blades beneath them and then skims onto the surface.  He whirls around, feeling the freedom of flying on the ground, and he spins around. 

Viktor’s eyes are wide, and there’s a bit of red creeping onto his cheeks.  Yuuri guesses it’s from the cold.  The man’s wearing a dusty old sweater, coat, and pants Yuuri had pilfered from a nearby village (he’d left some gold from his hoard, so he convinces himself he wasn’t stealing), and Yuuri hopes that Viktor isn’t freezing his toes off.

“Ice skating,” Yuuri says simply, as if that’s all he needs to know, and Viktor seems to snap out of whatever funk he’d been in.

“I want to try,” he demands, and Yuuri laughs, somewhat giddily.  He pulls Viktor onto the ice with newly created ice blade beneath his feet, and he teaches the prince how to balance, how to push off the ice and glide forward.  Viktor is a fast learner, and with those palms pressed against his own, fingers perfectly laced and laughter in their eyes, they skate until dusk.

* * *

By now, even Georgi’s looking a bit down.

“I thought the snow was bad, but _really_?” Mila asks as she tries to strip to her underclothes.  Yuri would have squawked in protest a while ago, but really, he gives no fucks at this point.

“The desert is a bit much.  We’re practically halfway across the country by now,” Christophe agrees, waggling his eyebrows as Mila throws him a dirty look.

The sand is much more annoying than the snow.  When the wind blows, Yuri has to shield the party, and Mila thinks she’ll bake alive in her armor if she doesn’t take it all off _right now._

Georgi hums something that sounds alarmingly like a funeral dirge.

“I vote we leave Viktor’s stupid ass and return home.  He can get back on his own,” Yuri says, somewhat mournfully, because he knows that they _won’t_ , but it’s still a nice idea to entertain anyways.

“Let’s dunk him in snow and then sand.  Make him understand what we’ve had to go through,” Christophe proposes.

“Castrate him and flay the skin off his back,” Mila says darkly, having successfully wrestled her chest plate off.

“Suffer the wrath of my beloved for having kept me from her so long,” Georgi sings.

They’re all good ideas.  Except the last one.  Yuri’s sure that the last one is just straight up dumb.

* * *

They fall into a routine.  Yuuri teaches Viktor how to skate, how to spin and jump and twirl, how to express himself with something other than words.  Viktor learns so so much, about ice skating, about Yuuri, about living far away from the castle and its pressure.  He feels himself learning how to live again, to find inspiration away from responsibilities and marriage proposals.

His impromptu journey across the country is a blessing, and Viktor doesn’t think he’ll ever be grateful enough for the man who’s taught him so much.

And Viktor falls in love quickly, like missing a jump and finding himself skidding cross the ice, not knowing how to stop, but it’s not like Viktor ever wants to stop.  It’s exciting, _exhilarating._   Viktor falls for Yuuri’s confidence on the ice and shyness off of it, his passion and expression, his dedication to perfecting an art for himself and nobody else.

Viktor’s in love, and he can’t find it in himself to care.  He’d stay here forever if he can, but he knows, in some secret, dark part of his mind, that he can’t abandon his country.  But one more day.  One more day.

“Come back with me,” Viktor breathes one night, tangled in the small bed, sheets tucked around them.

Yuuri’s smile is so, so sad, and Viktor feels his heart break a little.  “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Viktor presses, and Yuuri tucks his head beneath Viktor’s chin.  Viktor’s sure that Yuuri’s never had much interaction with other people before, so he’s not opposed to the cuddling.  Quite the opposite, in fact.

“I-I can’t.  I can’t tell you _why_ , but I can’t.”

Viktor lets the subject rest after that.

* * *

“He’s close.”  Yuri’s tone is flat and disbelieving, as he stares up at the mountain range that’s separating him from the idiot prince.

“Finally,” Mila breathes, slumping against a tree.  “We’re making camp.  I don’t care if he’s in grave danger right now, but I deserve this break for putting up with the snow and sand.”

Georgi is of similar mind, because he also takes a quick seat and pulls out his picture, staring down at it adoringly.  Christophe goes to gather wood for their fire.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Georgi wonders.  “We’ve taken at least a week now to get here.  He could be dead by now.”

“If he’s dead,” Yuri says, lowly, and magic arcs up his arms at the mere thought, “I’ll study necromancy, raise him from the dead, and then kill him again, slowly and painfully.  With holy water.”

“I second that,” Mila agrees vehemently.

* * *

Yuuri knows it can’t last.  He knows, okay.  He can practically feel the prince’s party at the edges of his territory, and he knows he has only one more day.

“Can I show you something?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor smiles as he threads his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, and he leans into the motion like a cat.

“Always.”

Yuuri teleports them to the lake, the same one they’ve been visiting for a week.  He makes himself his ice skates and glides to the center before turning towards Viktor.

“I-I’ve been working on something.  For you,” Yuuri says, and he smiles, and something in Viktor aches.  “It’s called Stay Close to Me.”

And he begins, starts to glide and flip and turn, to jump and throw everything he has into this one last performance.  He loses himself in imaginary music and dedicates every particle of his being, his human arms and dragon heart, to this prince that has so selfishly stolen his love.  One last performance for something he’ll never have, but something that he’ll cherish forever.  He spins, exhilarated, lands flawlessly, no mistakes or wasted movements.  He wants to show Viktor how much the man means to him.

When he stops, frozen in a pose, he’s panting.  He looks up, and he sees a fantastic blush spread across Viktor’s face, eyes wide, completely stunned.  He starts to glide forwards, and Viktor holds out his arms.  The prince leaps, arms wrapping around Yuuri and launching them across the ice so that when they land, Yuuri’s flat on his back and Viktor is cradling him.  Lips crash into Yuuri’s own, and Yuuri wraps his arms around the man that he’s fallen so hard for.

“I love you,” Viktor breathes, and Yuuri threads his fingers through Viktor’s hair, elated and bittersweet all at once.

“I love you too.”

* * *

“This is it.”  Yuri looks ready to kill either the prince himself or whoever kidnapped him, the rest of the party can’t tell.

“Let’s go,” Christophe says, bow at the ready as he peers into the cave.  For all of their dilly-dallying and caustic words directed at Viktor, they all care for the prince, and they’re all willing to lay their lives on the line for him.

They head inside.

* * *

Viktor awakes to calls of his name.  He rubs at his eyes and turns to see if Yuuri’s awake as well but finds that the side of the bed is cold. 

“Yuuri?” he calls out, heart pounding as he feels a sense of foreboding descend on him.

“Idiot prince?” a familiar voice calls back, but it’s not the one he wants to hear.  “You there, you asshole?  I’m going to rip you a new one when I see you!”

Viktor scrambles out of bed to find his clothes neatly folded.  He clumsily puts it all on, and that’s when he notices how empty the cave is.  Everything is still there, like the chair and the table and the ashes from the fire the night before, but it feels colder, emptier, like something’s missing.  And Viktor knows what exactly is gone.

When he looks up again from his desperate search, he sees his party.  Georgi has his small dagger at the ready, Christophe’s bow is drawn and arrow balanced at his fingertips, Mila is at the forefront, ready to plunge into battle, and Yuri, as usual, looks incensed, staff gripped in one hand.  When they all spot him, unharmed, Mila tears up, drops her sword, and throws herself at the prince, armor and all.

“You dumb, stupid man,” Mila says, armor painfully pressing against Viktor in a hug.

“Where is he?” Viktor asks wildly.

“Who?  Your kidnapper?” Yuri asks suspiciously.

“Where is he?” Viktor asks again, desperation in his throat, and Yuri goes off into the cave to investigate, Christophe at his heels.  Georgi goes to pry Mila off of the prince.

“Are you okay?  Are you harmed?” Mila asked, and Viktor shakes his head. 

“I’ve been fine.  It’s been the best week of my life,” Viktor confesses, but at this moment, he feels like he’s just been dropped from the sky, but it’s a different kind of falling than what he’d been experiencing the past week.  It’s a terrifying sort of plunge, like he won’t know when he hits the ground, but when he does, it’ll be messy and painful.  “But where’s Yuuri?”

“He went to look for the kidnapper,” Georgi replies, but Viktor makes a sound of frustration.

“Not _that_ Yuuri.  Yuuri, he’s short and black haired, and he’s amazing and kind and-”

“We’ll look for him,” Mila comforts, while Georgi mutters something about _‘we just traveled across snow and desert and mountains and you were here having the best week you’ve ever had.’_

“You need to come see this,” Yuri (the wrong one, not the one Viktor wants) appears beside Viktor, takes a firm and somewhat painful grip of his elbow, and guides him deeper into the cave. 

He’s never been this far in.  Yuuri hadn’t wanted him to explore, and Viktor had respected his wishes, but this dread that’s been building in his throat since he woke up is getting suffocating, and Viktor needs to know what secret Yuuri’s been hiding, why he’s _gone_.

They find a room, filled with glittering gold and silver.  Chalices, bracelets, crystals, and more are all piled up into a giant hill that towers over Viktor.

“Your kidnapper was a dragon.”

Viktor waits for the other shoe to drop, and when it doesn’t, he asks, somewhat incredulously, “That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘ _that’s it’_?” Yuri fumes, and Viktor blinks.  He suddenly understands why Yuuri had been so terrified and reluctant to return to the castle with him, and Viktor feels like laughing hysterically.

“That’s it?” Viktor asks, and he turns to Yuri and grabs his shoulders.  Yuri bristles, but Viktor continues, “I’m in love with him, and I don’t care if he’s a dragon or a goblin or a fairy.  We have to find him.”

“Are you _absolutely crazy you dumb sack of shi-”_

“Let’s find him,” Georgi says, the idiot, romantic bard he is. 

Christophe sighs but agrees, and Mila drags her hand down her face, resigned but smiling.

Yuri doesn’t even stand a chance.  It’s a good thing he’s used to the shenanigans that happens in Viktor’s life.

* * *

Yuuri doesn’t stand a chance either.

He’s reverted back to dragon form, black scales glittering in the sunlight and, curled up beside the lake where his best memories are.  He remembers Viktor learning to skate for the first time, and he remembers fingers between his own and laughing blue eyes and so much love.  He remembers dancing that last dance for Viktor.  He remembers feeling his fragile dragon heart shatter into a million pieces when he kisses Viktor, when he leaves the man sleeping peacefully on the bed and flies to the lake mere minutes before the party arrives.

His heart is breaking, and he’s never felt anything so painful before.

He’s crying, glittering tears that freeze the moment they leave his scales, when he hears his name, and he lifts his head, elated and terrified all at once when he sees Viktor, _his Viktor_ , waving at him, four others following close behind.

Yuuri lets out an alarmed squeal and spreads his wings, ready to take off before the archer can load his bow, when there’s a desperate scream.

_“Yuuri, wait._ ”

Yuuri freezes, and he knows, even if it kills him, he can’t go, because Viktor has captured him easily.  Yuuri is his, and he folds his wings at Viktor’s request, because he can’t leave when Viktor looks so desperate.

“Yuuri.  Wait, please.”

Yuuri’s not quite sure how they found him (he suspects it’s the narrow-eyed mage that’s hanging back by the tree line), but he lowers his head so that he’s eye level with the prince.  He’s expecting recriminations, scathing insults and jeers and words of betrayal and deception, but he will face whatever is coming for him, whether it be a blade or words.

“Yuuri.  I love you.”

Yuuri’s startled eyes meet Viktor’s own.  Viktor is still smiling, hopefully, desperately, and he’s reaching out his hands towards the dragon.

“Yuuri.  I don’t care if you’re a dragon.  This past week has felt like a dream, and I can’t ever thank you enough for sharing yourself with me.  People say that dragons are selfish and fickle creatures, but you’re amazing, confident and shy and passionate and full of things that made me feel like I was _living_ for the first time.

“I’ve learned so much from you.  I’ve learned how to ice skate, how to live, and I’ve learned how to love, Yuuri.  I-if you still want to go, you can, but I want you to know that I could never hate you for who you are, because you’re not just a dragon.  You’re courage and honor and everything a knight should strive for.  You’re magic, fantastic and beautiful as the ice you create.  And you’re someone that I cherish deeply.

“So please…” and here, Viktor’s voice breaks, just a little, and Yuuri quickly reverts to his human form to catch the man before he collapses to the ground as if his legs have given out on him.  “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri cries, burying his face in Viktor’s silver hair, snot and tears running unattractively down his face.  He’s always been an ugly crier.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I love you.  You’ve given me just as much, and I don’t think I can ever repay you.”

Yuuri’s heart sings _mineminemine._   But this time, it’s true, it’s real, and all Yuuri can do is laugh and cry, because _of course,_ if Viktor will have him, scales and all, then Yuuri will fly through the fires of hell for him.

“Repay me by staying with me,” Viktor says, and he presses his lips against Yuuri’s despite the tears.  “I love you too.”

* * *

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Yuri says, but contrary to his words, his eyes are soft, and there’s a small smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s adorable,” Georgi disagrees.

Mila is just seated on the ground, happy for her prince and this mysterious dragon that has filled him with more life that the castle ever has.

“Can we go home now?” Christophe grumbles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> haplesshippo


End file.
